Tail of a Turbofox
by grayseeker
Summary: Skywarp wants two things. An extra tail, since he still has just one, and for his life to go back to the way things were before he accidentally teleported. Too bad life - and magic - don't work that way. [Kitsune AU with Turbofox Seekers; Skywarp/Thundercracker, Starscream/Skyfire, Ariel/Orion Pax]


AN: I wrote this as part of my ongoing campaign to re-brand April 1st as Skywarp Day. Because hey - we ineed/i a day to celebrate the teleporting trickster, do we not? Of course we do! And there's no better day to celebrate than April Fools, so Happy Skywarp Day! (And do avoid stairs. ;-) Many, many thanks to Dark Star of Chaos for helping inspire this and being an amazing beta reader. Needless to say, I can think of no better recipient for this particular Skywarp Day offering.

* * *

Tail of a Turbofox

Spark pounding, Skywarp dove through the open doorway of an abandoned warehouse. He flattened himself against the wall, tail tucked between his hind legs as he scented the breeze. Nothing. Not a whiff of Dire. Just the brackish, iron scent of the Rust Sea blowing inland through the skeletal remnants of the coastal city.

The city had once been a thriving Wheeler port. Rattlewing was the only Turbofox old enough to remember those days. Skywarp had grown up on his tales of what Cybertron had once been like, before the war between the Wheelers and the Quintessons.

Those times were hard to imagine now. The city sprawled on the shore like the carcass of a fallen Guardian robot, its innards exposed to the sky. The only denizens now patrolling its streets were creatures that the Wheelers classed as vermin. Turbofoxes, retro-rats, Insecticons and… possibly… Dires.

Skywarp leaned into the breeze, trying for a clearer scent-image. Still nothing. The Dire scent had been so clear, so iclose./i He'd almost expected to see their low-slung shadows loping across a nearby alley, or to hear their terrible hunting-calls carried on the wind. But the scent was gone now, as if it had never been.

Maybe it hadn't. Maybe he'd imagined the whole thing. Dire territory was far away, with reason. Turbofoxes avoided it, and there hadn't been a Dire encroachment on any of the coastal warrens since Rattlewing had used his Void power to blight an entire pack of them. That story was the stuff of legend.

As a kit, Skywarp had thrilled to hear that story told again and again, along with the tales of more ancient heroes doing battle against foes more terrifying even than the Dires. Those wild tales had worked their way into his very struts, and now, knowing that he shared the same element as Backblaze—the legendary nine-tail Sky-fox who'd defeated the rust-demon Zastosh—was, well. Maybe it explained why he was imagining things.

Skywarp glanced back at his own, very solitary tail, and sighed. He'd come out here to practice. Since it seemed his life was not in danger from a pack of howling marauders, he might as well get to it. This old warehouse was as good a place as any.

He reached in his subspace and drew out his only piece of equipment. It was the last of a stash of energon morsels he and Thundercracker had scavenged two Lunes ago. They'd discovered a pile of food behind a restaurant in the outskirts of the nearby Wheeler city known as Polyhex. The Wheeler who owned the restaurant had obviously thrown the food away, but it hadn't stopped him from chasing after them, waving his arms and yelling in his bizarre Wheeler dialect. No one ever claimed that Wheelers made sense.

Back at the warren, Skywarp and Thundercracker had divided their spoils equally, though later, Thundercracker had crept from their sleeping den and placed a few morsels from his own share outside Starscream's den. Skywarp didn't know why he bothered. Well. He idid/i know, kind of, but he'd resolved not to think about it.

Too much was changing, too fast. The world as Skywarp had known it was slipping away like shale beneath his paws, and it was leaving him ibehind./i

He found a clear space near the center of the warehouse and set the morsel down. Since he didn't know this worked, it seemed best to place his target well away from any solid object that he might… collide… with. Of course, there was no guarantee that he'd land with his feet on the floor. He might just as easily reappear midair, or inside a wall, or he might miss completely and end up… anywhere.

Okay, that wasn't helping.

He'd done this before. Well, once. By accident. But other foxes had done it too. They must have. Not that he'd ever met any, but the legend of Backblaze had to come from isomewhere./i Didn't it? He needed to think of this the way he thought of his pranks. Focus on the potential, not the things that could go wrong.

He walked ten steps away from his target and turned back. The morsel's glow had dimmed since that night in Polyhex since the energon had lost its potency, but it was bright enough to be seen in the shadowy warehouse. Skywarp gazed at it, narrowing his attention to that single point.

This was what Rattlewing had suggested: pick something he wanted and focus on it. Those treats iwere/i tasty. Skywarp imagined picking up the morsel in his jaws. He pictured himself crushing it, his fangs puncturing the soft outer shell and releasing a flood of sweet, slightly fizzy energon.

With the taste fixed in his mind, Skywarp squeezed his optics shut and tried to remember the rest. How it had felt when the ground had shifted and the world around him had… blinked. No. That wasn't the right word, but it was the only one he could think of. It had been the feeling of up becoming down; of night flipping over into day.

One moment he'd been cornered by an enraged, slime-covered Starscream. The next, he'd been ibehind/i Starscream, watching in astonishment as his befuddled Trineleader slammed into the wall. Skywarp smirked as he recalled Starscream's indignant squawk.

He probably shouldn't have laughed. Not only because Starscream had assigned him to tunnel duty for the indefinite future, but also because of what Rattlewing had said later.

"Lad," Rattlewing had admonished in that cracked, ancient voice of his, "the gift you just manifested is the rarest of all elemental powers. Rarer, even, than my own."

"Rarer than iyours?"/i Skywarp had asked, a chill skittering down his backstrut. The elder fox's ability to call upon the Void, bringing forth creatures of darkness and draining both light and life-force from his surroundings, had earned him fear and respect from all Turbofox-kind. Even Starscream minded his manners around Rattlewing.

"There has not been a Sky-fox among us within known history," Rattlewing had said, fixing Skywarp with a stern look. "It is a powerful gift of the gods, and is not to be taken lightly."

In other words, not to be used for pranks. Which was ridiculous. Why ielse/i would the gods give him such an ability, if they didn't intend for him to use it for what he did best? It was like giving someone a freshly caught retro-rat and expecting them not to eat it. Ludicrous, unfair, and… yeah. Maybe old Rattler did have a point?

Skywarp glared across the stretch of floor that separated him from his prize. He was getting a definite sense that the gods were ticked at him. Maybe they'd even changed their minds about his so-called ability. He'd been practicing like this since the previous lunar conjunction, with zero success.

His belly rumbled. He groaned and flopped down on the floor, covering his face with both his front paws. "Arrgh! Why can't I DO this?"

"Ahem." The sound of a vocalizer being politely cleared drew his attention upward. A familiar set of optics was peering down at him through a gap in the warehouse's roof. "What iare/i you trying to do?"

"Thundercracker?" Skywarp leaped to his feet. "Thunder! You're back!"

"Sure am. Is it safe to come down there?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

Thundercracker tipped his nose toward the energon morsel. "Are you… hunting with that thing? Or setting up a prank?"

"Oh, no! Nothing like that, c'mon down."

Thundercracker sprang through the gap, landing on silent paws. Tails lifting like flags, he bumped his shoulder against Skywarp's, brushing their Trine-marks together. It was the kind of greeting exchanged by close friends and, especially, Trinemates. It warmed Skywarp, and he leaned into contact a little more than he probably should have, taking in Thundercracker's familiar scent. It was iso/i good. Like coming home.

"Missed you," he said. "Thought you were at Shivering Embers 'til next Lune."

"I wasn't supposed to, but the Rainmakers let me go early. They got sent on… I dunno, some kind of quest?" Thundercracker shrugged. "It sounded important."

"I'm sure it was," Skywarp said, fighting to keep bitterness from his voice. The Rainmaker Trine of the Shivering Embers warren was a powerful trio of Storm-foxes. When Thundercracker had discovered his own Storm affinity, they'd offered to train him. That was a great honor. There was no one better than the Rainmakers to teach a young Storm-fox how to develop his powers.

Selfishly though, Skywarp hated how much, and how often, it took Thundercracker away from him. The sleeping den they'd always shared felt cold and empty without Thundercracker's frame curled against his. And that was exactly how petty Skywarp was. He begrudged his best friend and Trinemate the opportunity of a lifetime because hey; it got cold at night.

"No new tails," Skywarp observed, noting that Thundercracker still had two. "Maybe they sent you back because you were slacking."

"Yeah, that's the reason," Thundercracker replied with a grin. He shook his shoulders and the sky darkened, answering him with a low growl of thunder.

"Wow." Skywarp sank down on his haunches. "I can't do anything like that."

Thundercracker's pleased expression shifted to one of concern. "Course not," he said. "You haven't found your element yet, but you will. Don't worry."

Skywarp sighed, and for a moment, he considered keeping the truth to himself. He was only a one-tail, after all. There was no visual marker that he'd found his ability, and if things kept going the way they were, there never would be. He'd be a one-tail forever, while Starscream and Thundercracker moved on in life without him. Had kits together, probably. Their kits would be smart, and beautiful, and… that would make Skywarp happy, wouldn't it? Happy for his Trine? Happy for Thundercracker?

But he couldn't bring himself to lie.

"I have found it," he admitted. "And that's the problem."

"The—wait, what? You… ifound/i your element? What is it? And how could that ever be a problem?"

And so Skywarp told the story. He started from the beginning, with the pit filled with orange goop that he'd discovered in one of the old shipyards. It had smelled like death, corrosion and all things putrescent, so naturally he'd filled a bucket with the stuff. He'd carried said bucket back to the warren and balanced it above the entrance so that whoever passed through next would get slimed.

For the record, the intended victim had not been Starscream. Skywarp didn't prank his elders, nor Trine. Starscream was both. No, Skywarp had chosen his timing very specifically, so that the bucket would be in position just after Second Moonrise. That was when Thrust and Ramjet, the two junior members of the Doomsday Trine, were supposed to leave the warren and go on their rounds.

It had been a perfect plan. There was no way Skywarp could have predicted that Starscream would have chosen that evening to take over Thrust and Ramjet's patrol duties. None. "I was blameless," he said, a tad defensively, when Thundercracker gave him a dubious look. "C'mon! How was I supposed to know?"

"Starscream hasn't…" Thundercracker stopped himself with a frown. "Never mind. What happened iafter/i he got slimed?"

"I was getting to that," Skywarp said huffily, and told Thundercracker of how a rancid, orange Trineleader had hauled Skywarp from his sleeping den—where he'd been feigning sleep very convincingly—and chased him all around the warren.

"So… ballistic, in other words," Thundercracker said.

"Yeah, pretty much nuclear."

Thundercracker snorted. "Warp…" he shook his head. "You're such an idiot."

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Nope," Thundercracker agreed. "It never is. So then what?"

Skywarp told him, and when he was done, Thundercracker stared in silence for a long moment.

"This better not be a joke," he said at last.

"I wish it was," Skywarp said bitterly.

Thundercracker's expression softened, and Skywarp felt his spark jump.

Thundercracker always did that to him. He was such a beautiful fox. It wasn't just that he was handsome, although he was. Thundercracker's plating was rich blue, set off by silver markings on his chin, chest and belly. His muzzle was black, like his paws and the mask around his optics, while his ears were tipped with a brilliant red that matched his Trine-markings.

But his beauty went far beyond looks. Thundercracker had the gentlest spark Skywarp had ever known. He was honest, dependable and kind. Skywarp feel safer just being near him, as if his presence made the ground a little more solid. Thundercracker made things make sense. Maybe he could even make sense of ithis./i If anyone could, it was him.

"So you've been… practicing?"

"I don't know! I've been trying, but I don't think I'm doing it right."

"Yeah?" Thundercracker tilted his helm to one side, gazing thoughtfully at the energon morsel. "Maybe you haven't," he said.

"What d'you mean?"

A playful light kindled in Thundercracker's gaze—and then, without warning, he pounced. Skywarp yelped in shock as the force of Thundercracker's assault bore him to the floor. He rolled, gasping and struggling, but Thundercracker pinned him with ease.

He was bigger, slightly heavier, and also a bit stronger than Skywarp remembered. That must have been thanks to the second tail. Turbofoxes were supposed to gain tails as they grew in age, power and experience, but Skywarp had never considered that it would also translate into physical strength. He liked it.

"I have an idea." Thundercracker's voice was a velvet growl, and it made Skywarp go limp, as if every joint in his body had turned to water.

"You… you do?" Skywarp asked, tone hoarse. How obvious was it that he hoped Thundercracker's idea would involve keeping him pinned right here on the floor?

Thundercracker smelled different than Skywarp remembered. Had he noticed before? Maybe, but it was more noticeable out here, when they were away from the den and everyone else. His scent was warm, and musky and… and…

"Uhhhh…." Skywarp rolled from under him and sprang to his feet. "What kind of idea?" he asked, desperate to keep his mind on track.

He didn't want to think about what that scent could mean. It was too much like Starscream lately, the way he walked around in his own personal cloud of pheromones. And if Thundercracker was starting to smell that way too, well… that was how things went. Everything was changing, whether Skywarp wanted them to or not.

Thundercracker crouched, tails wagging. "Catch me if you can!"

He sprang toward the energon morsel, crossing the distance with astounding speed. "Hmm, little stale," he remarked, sniffing it before he scooped it up in his jaws.

"Give that back!"

Thundercracker tossed it in the air. It flipped end over end, its gelid surface catching the light. Skywarp launched himself at it, but his jaws snapped on empty air as Thundercracker snatched it back again and bolted out the door.

"I need that!" Skywarp yelled, dashing after him. Thundercracker only laughed. He was zig-zagging wildly back and forth across the dry riverbed that sliced through the city's dessicated heart. The rust sea was directly ahead, stretching brown and seemingly lifeless beneath the blazing galactic core.

According to legend, when Backblaze the Sky-fox had defeated Zastosh, he'd banished the rust-demon to the depths of the sea. The waters had turned the color of rust, and the sea had forevermore smelled of decay. Skywarp had never been sure that was a good outcome. He'd never been sure if Backblaze was the hero or the villain of the story. Knowing that he, too, was a Sky-fox was not comforting.

But Thundercracker wasn't giving him time to dwell on it. He scrambled up the side of the river embankment, kicking up debris so that Skywarp had to dodge flying bits of detritus. He sprang to the top of the shattered sea wall and balanced there on slender legs, a twin-tailed silhouette against the rising First Moon. His lips curled back in a wicked grin, and then—

He fell.

He did it on purpose. He totally did. Skywarp could tell, and yet his spark still lurched. "Thundercracker!" He dashed towards him, covering the ground in desperate, gulping leaps to reach his side as fast as he could.

Thundercracker had fallen into a shallow crevice. When Skywarp reached its edge, he found his Trinemate on his back, all four paws waving indolently skyward. The energon morsel was gripped loosely in his jaws and his optics twinkled in a wordless dare.

"You aft!" Skywarp pounced on him.

They rolled, laughing and growling. Skywarp nipped at Thundercracker's muzzle, trying to wrest the energon morsel out from between his jaws. At first Thundercracker evaded him, but then Skywarp hooked the morsel with a fang. It burst, spraying fizzy energon all over Thundercracker's face.

Skywarp fell on his side, quaking with helpless laughter while Thundercracker, coughing and spluttering, tried to shake the stuff out of his optics.

"Skywarp!" Thundercracker barked, his voice pitched in a credible impression of Starscream's high, scratchy tones. "How idare/i you besmirch my plating with this appalling filth!"

"Whoa," Skywarp said, pausing to stare at Thundercracker. "You sound exactly like him."

"You'd better run," Thundercracker went on, still in Starscream's voice, "because if I icatch/i you…" He let the sentence hang ominously—and Skywarp suddenly understood what Thundercracker was trying to do. He was trying to re-create the conditions under which Skywarp had teleported that first time.

"Catch me if you can!" Skywarp chirped, leaping from the crevice. He dashed to the sea wall and vaulted to the top, balancing where Thundercracker had been a moment earlier. Below him, Thundercracker was pretending to struggle up the side of the crevice. Being faster than Skywarp, he was being none too subtle about giving him a head-start.

But Skywarp had noticed something else. Something terrible. The scent of Dire was back, and this time it was unmistakably real. As real as the pale, spiny form streaking toward him up the side of the sea-cliff. It moved with preternatural speed, leaping from bluff to bluff with horrifying agility.

Skywarp's mouth dropped open. He wanted to cry out a warning—say something—but nothing emerged but a squeak. His body was locked tight, joints frozen in place as the monster reached the base of the wall, and leaped. It was coming right at him.


End file.
